Zombie Plan
by ItsTeotwawki
Summary: After a late night of watching Firefly and Red vs. Blue and drinking Mountain Dew, I came up with this. NOT A CROSSOVER. Oneshot.


_Firefly _belongs to Joss Whedon, who is God. _Red vs. Blue _belongs to the people at Roosterteeth.

(If _Firefly _was mine, I'd cry from joy and then assassinate the evil people at Fox Studios who canceled it.

And then I'd put it back on the air. Bwah.)

* * *

Dr. Simon Tam was making lunch, and trying not to concentrate to hard on the unnamable glop congealing in the pot. Its only identifiable feature was that it was brown; thick, brown and lumpy, like bad gravy. That's it: He'd pretend it was gravy.

They were a couple weeks out of Persephone, and running low on supplies. The Doctor hoped that they'd land somewhere civilized soon and pick up some real food.

Well, not _too_ civilized, he amended as he poured the mysterious brown glop onto a plate and headed over to the long table. Just civilized enough to have food, but not civilized enough to have attracted the attention of the Alliance.

As he prepared himself to eat the 'gravy', Simon heard the thud of heavy footsteps from behind him. He tried very hard not to groan as he mentally rifled through the list of crewmembers and realized that the pounding footsteps could only belong to one person:

Jayne Cobb.

"Afternoon, Jayne." Simon said as the big man entered the galley, making an attempt at civility even though he knew that he'd likely get none in return.

Jayne snorted, and began pawing through their store of canned food. "You know what, Doc?" he said, glancing sideways at Simon.

"What?" Simon was suspicious now. Usually, Jayne insulted him and then left him alone, or made fun of him and then left him alone…or just left him alone. This didn't seem to fit into any of those categories—yet.

"Nobody likes you, doc."

Ah. There it was. A Category One for sure.

Simon shrugged. "What do you mean?" He asked, pushing the faux gravy around his plate with the tip of his spoon. "Everybody likes me." Except you, he added mentally, and occasionally the Captain.

Jayne shook his head, using his ever-present knife to slice open a can of peaches. "Nope." He said. "Everybody hates you. You don't fit in."

"Oh?" Simon replied indignantly. "I think I fit in just fine."

Again, that sidelong look from Jayne that made Simon think the man was going to gut him with that absurdly large knife. "Really." Jayne said, spearing a peach slice and somehow managing to eat it without cutting his tongue off.

"Yes…" Simon replied, wondering where this was going.

Jayne slammed the can of peaches down on the counter. "Ok, then let me ask you this, Doc. What's your _zombie plan_?" He punctuated each word with a jab of the knife, splattering peach juice.

Simon wiped a few stray droplets off of his cheek. "My _what_?" He asked uncertainly.

Jayne rolled his eyes. "Look, Doc. There are two kinds of people in this 'verse: Them as got a plan prepared for when the zombies take over, and them that don't. We call them last ones 'dinner'."

"'We?'" asked Simon, slightly surprised. "There are more than just you? Nobody does that sort of thing!" He'd heard of zombies before: they were an old story from earth-that-was that had frightened children. They had been similar to Reavers in that they craved living flesh; only they themselves were already dead. Nonsense.

Jayne nodded solemnly. "Smart folk do," he said. "In my zombie plan, I'm gonna take a

ship out into the coldest part of space, 'cause zombies don't got no body heat, so they'll freeze like corpse-sickles. Pretty cunning, huh?"

Simon set down his fork with a sigh. "Nobody else thinks about things like that, Jayne." He said.

"Fine." Jayne said with a shrug. "I'll prove it to you." Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted, "Hey, Kaylee!"

A few seconds later, Kaylee stuck her head through the doorway. "What?" There was a smear of grease across her forehead. "Oh… hey, Simon." She wiped innefectually at the grease.

"Just ignore me." Jayne grumbled. "Hey, Kaylee. There's somethin' the Doctor wants to ask you."

"Huh?" Simon stammered as Kaylee looked at him expectantly. "Oh, right. Kaylee, Jayne was telling me a rediculous story, and I was hoping you could help clear it up."

Kaylee nodded knowingly. "Was it the space monkeys?" She asked. "Jayne's scared of 'em."

"Am not!"

Simon ignored him. "Actually, I was wondering if you had a 'zombie plan'."

To his lasting surprise, Kaylee nodded. "Yup." She said brightly. "I have two weeks worth of supplies stored in the spare shuttle. When the zombies attack, I'm gonna run in there and take off!"

Simon couldn't believe he was hearing this. "And…what happens when the two weeks are up and the food runs out?" he asked, rubbing his head.

The mechanic stuck out her tongue. "I ain't tellin'." She said. "I don't want to risk you turnin' into a zombie and knowin' what I'm up to!"

As Simon waited for her to laugh and say she was kidding or for his dream to be over, Kaylee turned to Jayne.

"You still headin' somewhere cold?" she asked, folding her arms. When Jayne knodded, she sighed, and shook her head. "You'll never make it!" She protested. "If it's too cold for the zombies, it's gonna be too cold for people too!"

Jayne didn't falter. "I'm just gonna have to take that risk," he said.

"Good luck, Jayne." Kaylee said, extending her hand.

"Good luck to you too." They shook hands.

Simon threw up his hands. "Are you both brain damaged or something? There are no such things as zombies!"

"What's all this arguin' about?" All three of them fell silent as the Captain entered. Simon hoped that he'd be able to talk some sense into the others.

"Captain, do you have a 'zombie plan'?" he asked, an embarassed smile spreadin over his face.

Mal laughed. "Of course not!" he scoffed.

"See?" Simon turned back to Kaylee and Jayne. "I told you it was—"

"I have thirty-seven different zombie plans." Mal continued confidently. Simon's smile disapeared, and was replaced with a look of complete and utter disbelief.

Kaylee's jaw dropped, and Jayne whistled appreciatively. Simon buried his face in his hands.

"Wow," Jayne said slowly, a look of awe on his face. "Now _that's_ preparation. I am seriously impressed."

"Don't be." Mal glared at him. "In thirty-six of those thirty-seven plans, I use your fresh corpse as bait so I can make my initial escape from the zombie hordes."

Jayne blanched, but then shrugged. "Oh, well. At least I know there's _one_ plan were I don't—"

"And in the thrity-seventh plan," Mal went on, sounding almost gleeful, "I knowingly infect myself with the zombie virus. Just so I can devour you." He grinned at each of them in turn.

Simon pushed out his chair and stood up, picking up his plate. "You've got to be kidding me." He said flatly. "Zombies don't exist."

"'Course they do!" Mal barked, pulling out his gun. "Why d'you think I carry this around at all times? You gotta be ready to act at a moment's notice!"

"I thought you carried that around because your line of work was very dangerous and you don't want to get killed." Simon pointed out.

Mal just shrugged, and put the gun back in it's holster. "Yeah, that too." He admitted. "But it's mostly for the zombies."

"Look." Simon said long-sufferingly. "I can't believe that with all of the _real_ problems in the 'verse, you're spending so much time worrying about…" he trailed off as a strange sound reached his ears. "Does anybody else hear moaning?"

"_Wuh de tyen ah," _Mal muttered. "It's the zombies! The rest of the crew must be infected!"

Kaylee darted off, taking the peaches with her. "Anybody needs me, I'll be in the shuttle!" She shouted as she disapeared around the corner. "But you better not need me, 'cause I'm outta here!"

Jayne was right behind her. "Snow planet, here I come!" he cried.

"Wait!" Mal shouted after them. "I need your meat for most of my plans! Come back here!" He started to run off, but then he saw Simon, and a demonic grin appeared on his face. Simon backed away slowly. "Hey there, Doctor. You, uh, you wanna give me a hand with somethin'?"

"No." Simon said bluntly, and then he ran for dear life.

As he made a mad dash back to his room, Simon nearly collided headlong with River.

She was walking slowly down the hall, clutching her stomach with a grimace.

"What's wrong?" Simon asked, laying a hand on his sister's shoulder.

"Stomach ache," River replied, and moaned softly. "Too many apples. We were having a contest."

Distantly, Simon heard the second shuttle blasting off, and he groaned.

* * *

Well, now. That was random nonsense, but it would still like to be reviewed. Every time you don't review a story, a kitten dies. You don't want to kill kittens, do you? /sad face

.button the Click

:)


End file.
